


Rekindling the Flame

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [88]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: M/M, Male Homosexuality, Pre-Series, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hands are in his pockets as he leans against the wall, and just the sight of that teasing smirk of his makes my heart skip a beat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rekindling the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 29 June 2016  
> Word Count: 807  
> Prompt: 34. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”  
> Summary: His hands are in his pockets as he leans against the wall, and just the sight of that teasing smirk of his makes my heart skip a beat.  
> Spoilers: Pre-series, set nebulously a month or so before the events of the series premier. Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/   
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazarra, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Before I forget, I want to make it known that this story was supposed to focus on Patrick Shay and Vassago, according to IT, my D20. When I saw the prompt, I balked a bit, but then this whole idea came to me, and I just ran with it.
> 
> I still cannot get over just how smoothly and nonchalantly Glen Mazzara and his team introduced the coupling of James and Patrick Shay. I was so pleasantly shocked by it, that I had to keep rewatching those scenes to make sure I wasn't seeing things. And then I had to take it to Twitter the next morning to determine if I'd been dreaming it or not. Thankfully, I wasn't. I love the opportunity I get to write for these men and their son in this project. I will be writing for them more often in this project, trust me.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

"So Jacob's fast asleep and probably won't wake up until we force him out of bed tomorrow," James says as I close our son's bedroom door. 

"You're likely right," I reply, moving to toss Jacob's dirty clothes down the laundry chute, making a mental note to work on that in the morning so that everyone's set for the week when Monday rolls around. "Maybe we can have a lazy day at home tomorrow, given today's excitement?"

"Are we going to be really lazy and just let him totally sleep himself out? Because I'm all for that kind of lazy day at home, curled up in bed."

The tone of his voice registers a split second before I turn around to face him. His hands are in his pockets as he leans against the wall, and just the sight of that teasing smirk of his makes my heart skip a beat. When he holds out one hand to me, I cross the few feet to fit my body against his, arms wrapping around his waist. A languid kiss pulls a moan from deep in my chest, and I don't resist when he holds me closer with a gentle hand on the back of my head.

"Why don't you go start filling the tub while I do one last round to check the house?" he says when we finally pull back from that kiss. "I'll come join you as soon as I can."

Another gentle kiss is dropped on my lips and then he's off to head downstairs for his nightly security check. I stand there for a moment, body tingling in all the right places at the prospect of what's to come. It takes hardly any time for me to get the tub going once in our bedroom, then I start to strip off my own clothes, making another mental note to prepare the dry cleaning to be dropped off on my way to work Monday morning.

Slipping into my robe out of habit, I debate taking my dirty things to the chute or waiting until tomorrow, so I can take James' at the same time. In the end, waiting wins out, and I lounge in the bathroom door as I watch the tub filling up.

James hasn't felt this amorous in weeks, and I welcome the change in his mood. I've missed this side of him, and I hope tonight is just the first of many that offer us the chance to rekindle our romance. There are eyes on me and I smile at the heat of that gaze. Turning my head, I see no one in the room and shrug, assuming my eagerness for James' return as the cause. When the tub is nearly full, I add in the rosemary and mint bath oil that James bought me for Hanukkah last year. Thankfully, he bought several bottles, or I'd have run out a while ago.

Turning off the water, I remove my robe and slip into the hot water with a low groan. It shouldn't take James much longer to join me. As I lean back in the tub, what looks to be the reflection of a young girl staring at me in the mirror catches my eye. But no one is standing in the bedroom. Clearly my mind is playing tricks on me, and I close my eyes to relax in the water. That sensation of being watched comes again, but I find no one standing there.

"Well, look at what I found," James says a few minutes later. When I open my eyes again, he's got that same heart stopping smirk on his face. "Give me a minute to change and I'll come join you."

"For you, I'd wait an eternity," I reply, watching avidly as he strips off each layer of clothing.

"I hope it won't be that long. I'd be kind of lonely without you."

He chuckles and steps closer, and I automatically move forward into a sitting position, allowing him to settle behind me. My husband takes his duties as the big spoon very seriously, and I wouldn't dare deprive him of that role. One of his arms wraps around my waist, gently pressing me back against his chest, and I settle with a soft sigh. The bath oil's scent blends with the sharp musk that I always associate with James; the combination relaxes me further and I chalk up my earlier vision to some combination of stress and fatigue. There's no way that a little girl with one eye sewn shut could be lurking in my house without my husband knowing.

We're safe. Tonight I intend to remind James just how much he means to me, and then we'll fall into a happily exhausted slumber, curled into one another until morning calls us back to the world of the living.


End file.
